


How Wonderful Life Is

by cookietosser



Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/F, Fluff, For the p5 wedding zine, Post-Canon, wedding fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 01:43:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20922110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookietosser/pseuds/cookietosser
Summary: Wife. Ann is her wife. Futaba’s grin makes her face hurt; she feels her eyes well up as she looks up at her girl, thankful that her glasses prevent her from touching her face and smearing her makeup. Ann turns around and catches Futaba’s gaze. Her eyes crinkle and she blows a kiss her way, and Futaba gulps down her hefty happiness so she can breathe, and she whispers, “I love you.”





	How Wonderful Life Is

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the amazingly beautiful P5 Wedding Zine! I want to thank the organizers for allowing me to be a part of this wonderful project, it is so special and I am proud to have contributed!

No matter how perfect the ceremony turned out, Futaba knew she’d dread this part. Everyone she knows is in the wedding party, and they’re already inside, which means it’s all Ann’s relatives filing in to the reception hall to greet the couple and find their seats. Ann carries enough social poise for the both of them, and she’s using it well to make everyone happy. Saying hello to each of them, thanking them for coming, taking pictures… Yeah, Futaba is perfectly content to smile, tight-lipped and polite, and let Ann handle the rest. She’s still surprised all of Ann’s relatives are  _ cool _ with two women getting married, no matter how many times her lovely wife reminds her, “ _ European _ .”

Wife. Ann is her  _ wife _ . Futaba’s grin makes her face hurt; she feels her eyes well up as she looks up at her girl, thankful that her glasses prevent her from touching her face and smearing her makeup. Ann’s dress is perfect, form-fitting and accentuating her curves, her blonde hair cascading down her open back. Ann laughs at something an aunt said, and once she’s satisfied that everyone’s settled in, she turns around and catches Futaba’s gaze. Her eyes crinkle and she blows a kiss her way, and Futaba gulps down her hefty happiness so she can  _ breathe _ , and she whispers, “I love you.”

Ann’s face softens and she steps closer, slipping her hand in Futaba’s. Ryuji hollers, “KISS!” and the room erupts with the sounds of whooping and cheering. Ann gives Futaba a sly grin and pulls her close, her arm wrapped around her waist. Futaba jolts and gets her arms around her neck before Ann is planting their lips together.

The crowd roars and Futaba lets herself fall into the kiss, the euphoria releasing its tight grip on her chest and floating up to her head and leaving her love drunk. She sighs when they part and Ann presses their foreheads together, laughter bubbling between them like the champagne being poured in everyone’s glasses. 

“Give it up for our newly weds, Ann and Futaba!”

Dinner and cake are served. Ann wanted the dancing to go uninterrupted and last well into the night, and who was Futaba to deny her? The DJ keeps the ambience going with Futaba’s carefully crafted playlist—just one of the many finer details she’s been agonizing over. All of the anxiety and stress has paid off, she thinks as she scans the room. The guests  _ ooh  _ and  _ awe _ at the LED display of floral designs painting the room in their wedding colors.

Futaba’s grin turns cat-like. Sojiro’s enjoying the bar, it seems, and he raises his glass to her when they catch eyes. Futaba raises her forkful of cake back at him before sticking it in her mouth. She’s not too worried about him, she thinks, as his date, Sexy Doctor Lady Takemi, sidles up next to him. On the other side of the room, Ryuji and Haru are taking silly pictures at the photo booth, Inari’s grabbing a second (or maybe third) plate of cake, and Ren’s bringing Makoto a drink at their table.

Futaba’s pulled out of her thoughts when her wife plops down next to her with what is definitely a third slice of cake on her plate. Despite just finishing her piece, Futaba holds her mouth open pointedly until Ann gives her a bite, and her words come out muffled, “Thank you, babe.”

“No one can ever doubt my love for you.” Ann rolls her eyes, taking a big bite for herself. Futaba wants to rest her head on Ann’s shoulder, but she’ll be damned if she messes up her hair, and she settles for linking an arm around one of Ann’s. She keeps her close, grounding herself in the midst of the room’s liveliness.

“Wanna catch a breather?” Ann asks in a low murmur, rising to stand. Futaba nods and lets her wife pull her up. 

“Let me create a diversion,” Futaba smirks, then signals at the DJ to skip to the next track. He nods and does some remixing, getting a party anthem booming out of the speakers. Sure enough, a path is cleared as most of the room migrates to the dance floor, and everyone’s attention is diverted from the door while the brides sneak away.

The ocean is calm, but its roaring is powerful in the stillness of the night. Ann leads the way down the stairs from the beach house, and once she reaches the sand, she flings her heels off. She holds her arm out for Futaba, letting her grip it as she lifts each foot up and undoes her wedges. Once she’s bare footed, Futaba jumps into the sand and Ann lets out a gleeful laugh, spinning Futaba around in a clumsy dance. Futaba hops to the faint beat of the music back indoors while Ann sways her hips and sings along, voice horribly out of tune.

When the song ends, Ann sinks to her knees, sitting back and facing the tide. Futaba hesitates, and the skirt of her dress whips in the wind. She shivers before she squats next to Ann, pushing close together. Ann tucks some loose hair behind Futaba’s ear before kissing her cheek, giggling when her face warms in a blush.

“We’re married,” Ann chides as she runs her hand over Futaba’s back. “Are you ever gonna stop blushing?” 

“Prolly not,” Futaba grumbles, but she leans into the touch, nuzzling into Ann’s bare shoulder.

“Good.” Ann sighs, sounding completely at peace watching the waves creep in and crawl back out. Futaba turns her attention to the sky, marvelling at how clear it is out here away from the city. She’s searching for Mars’ star when Ann speaks again, “You remember our first trip out here?”

“Of course I do.” Futaba thinks back on it, shaking her head with a nostalgic embarrassment. “You all worked so hard to get me to be—well,  _ alive _ again after I awakened my Persona. And then we came here. In the  _ sunshine _ , where I’d never thought I’d be again.” Futaba draws lines into the sand. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Ann hums, thoughtful. “We helped,” she agrees. “But you were the one to walk all the way out to the shoreline. You embraced it.” She pulls her arm away, turning Futaba’s attention back to her. She shifts to sit in front of Futaba and leans back, encouraging her wife to wrap herself around her. Futaba does as such, tucking her chin over Ann’s shoulder. Ann runs her manicured fingertips over Futaba’s arms, inducing slight shivers. She laughs. “Still. I did  _ not _ expect you to pick out the swimsuit you did. I was banking on a one-piece, and they had some cute ones that would’ve suited you, too.”

“I liked the frills.” Futaba pouts and tucks her face into Ann’s neck. She huffs her breath, taking pleasure in Ann squirming. Sweet revenge.

“Yes, I know, sweetheart,” Ann teases, tugging lightly on Futaba’s sleeves. “And all that perfect skin you were showing off? It was like,” she whistles, and Futaba rolls her eyes dramatically, “‘Look at that hottie!’”

“You’re one to talk,” Futaba throws back, jostling Ann in her arms. Ann’s laugh is airy and contagious. “There  _ you _ were, all goddess-like and amazing. I remember you grabbed my hand and pulled me into the ocean, and you didn’t let go afterwards. I was doomed from the start.”

“Doomed?” Ann questions, looking back at her with a victorious grin.

“It was a gay panic,” Futaba elaborates. “It felt like doom.”

Ann holds up their hands, their rings reflecting the natural light of the moon like their own personal stars. “What’s it feel like now?”

Futaba beams, “The golden file. The New Game Plus.” Ann chuckles, satisfied, and turns fully in Futaba’s lap. “I’m really excited for that part,” Futaba murmurs, bumping her nose against Ann’s. “The married life.”

“Mmm,” Ann hums, eyes drooping. “Coming home after a long day, the house smelling like coffee and curry, the fur babies running around… Oh my god, I’m so excited to help you decorate your office—you’ll have to move your clothes in there eventually, you know that right? ‘Cause, like, my clothes are gonna take up most if not all of the closet space. Oh, but can we put succulents in your office, babe? I think they’d be so cute—”

Futaba closes the gap between them, kissing Ann quiet, although she doesn’t put up a fight. Futaba’s hands grip Ann tightly, with an intensity that has been burning inside her since they caught eyes across the aisle. It feels like a high tide, an overwhelming emotion that refuses to fall back, nor does Futaba want it to. It’s a heavy comfort, like the mornings when she wakes up with Ann’s weight on her and she doesn’t want to move. It’s almost hard to breathe, but the burn in her throat and chest is warm, and she chases that fire with urgency. She’s pushing and pulling, chasing after Ann to prevent them from separating. Ann cups Futaba’s face, and her hold is contrastly delicate. Her caress is soft, like the ocean’s calm murmur.  _ I’ve got you _ , her hands say, a _ lways _ .

Futaba lets Ann pull away, and she leans their foreheads together. They collect their breaths in unison, and the tide creeps up higher. “I’m not gonna cry again, I’m not gonna cry again,” Ann murmurs under her breath, high pitched, and Futaba lets out a wet laugh.

“I’m gonna!” she declares, turning away and blinking at the blurry night sky. Once her vision clears and the stars regain their shape, she gives her wife a weepy grin. “Takamaki Ann, I will forever love you.”

Ann throws her hands up in defeat, and a single tear falls down her cheek. “There it goes. Did you see it? You did this.” Futaba reaches forward and swipes at the tear delicately, watching Ann’s eyes well up further. She ignores it and cups Futaba’s face in both hands, “Sakura Futaba, I will forever love you.”

Futaba feels drawn to her like a magnet, and she goes for another kiss when her brother’s voice calls out from the stairs.

“There you are! They’re calling for the brides’ first dance!”

Futaba puffs out her cheeks in frustration, and Ann giggles before giving Ren a wave. “We’ll be right in!”

He salutes in response, and he bends over to grab the ladies’ discarded shoes. He holds them up pointedly as he heads inside, offering one last warning, “They’re expecting a grand entrance at this rate.”

Futaba stands first, dusting the sand off her dress before she reaches for Ann’s hands and pulls her up. The difference in their strength has Futaba reeling back, and her wife grabs her hip to hold her steady. She raises herself on her toes to kiss her once more, and they stand side by side, backs facing the sea as its waves retreat.

“We won’t disappoint,” Ann says as she slips a hand into Futaba’s. She’s sure that her eyes are glinting dangerously, the way Ann is smirking at her. “With you, there’s always fireworks.”

“No fireworks this time,” Futaba corrects. She squeezes Ann’s hand, “Just you and me.”

“I can’t wait.” Ann swings their arms forward, and they march into the beach house with wide grins. The music swells to the couple’s gentle swaying.

**Author's Note:**

> @cookietosser on Twitter and Tumblr


End file.
